


The Assistant

by LadyLaumes



Series: The Assistant [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:56:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaumes/pseuds/LadyLaumes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working with him has been amazing...but I've fallen for him. And I <i>hate</i> keeping this professional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> ATTENTION: This story is best viewed in a word processing document with the following items replaced with the corresponding words.  
> After copying and pasting the document into an editable file, use the find and replace tool in these ways:
> 
> r/n - Reader's name. Use a nickname or what you would like to be called throughout the story.  
> h/c - Hair color.  
> h/l - Hair length.  
> h/t - Hair texture. e.g. soft, wavy, thick, etc.
> 
> Or if you really want to have fun with it, go ahead and treat it like madlibs, using the find tool and manually replacing them.
> 
> Enjoy ;3
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Russian Key:  
> (This is correct to the best of my knowledge. I don't know Russian. Full disclosure.)
> 
> Dorogaya moya - My dear  
> Ti takaya chudesnaya - You're so wonderful

Alright. I'll admit it. It was a terrible idea to take this job. But what else was I supposed to do? Apply for retail? No, my pride (alongside that shady little request that I found on craigslist) has landed me here, in this underground basement helping this mad scientist. Well...perhaps he's not crazy, but he's definitely angry about something. He's so intent on developing these whip things...he's assured me that they're a medical invention that's supposed to help surgeons somehow, but it all just seems so...illegal. But I can't complain really. The cash is good and apparently real...my bank _does_ transfer the checks into my account fully and everything is very...nice with him.

"r/n, can you bring me that tiny screw droiver?" The thickness of his Russian accent nearly lulls me into another paralyzingly pleasurable, groin-oriented undulation. It has been a month and three days now, but I can still remember the instant that I walked into his lab; I felt absolutely overwhelmed by the power of the man: some deep, undesired need pulsating throughout my body due only to the fact that I gave my future employer a once over. His eyes were as fierce as lightning, quick and malicious, but still completely smothered with a warmth that only a lover can offer. It was ferocity that still shines brightly in the orbs that are looking me over right now.

"Yes, Mister Vanko." The soft clicking of teeth and tongue against the wood of a toothpick tells me that calling him by this rather formal name is still finding its way beneath his rough, tattooed, weatherworn skin. How a scientist gets a body like his, I'll never understand. And that hair...it's up now, but I love it most when he leaves the black and white mess of a mane down, even if it does get in the way of his work. After procuring the instrument, I step as lightly as I can over the wires that snake across the linoleum flooring, handing the thing to him as politely as the maid of some billionaire might do. 

"That smoile does not suit the disrespect that you show me." He sets down the piece of fiber-optic tubing that he was handling before he asked for my assistance and places one of his rough hands over the both of mine, easily ensnaring them and the screw driver in a prison of calloused comfort. I've wanted his hand on me for far too long...and he's lingering here, watching me watch him, knowing that I want it...knowing that I'm fighting the worst kind of ache..."Is it so hard to call me Ivan?"

"Well you are supposed to be my boss and everything. I would think it would be more respectful to call you Mister Vanko." That, and if I called you Ivan, I might accidentally moan it and all of my hard work in trying to keep our relationship professional would be undone. _Oh_ , that would be amazing...an itching pulsation drags itself along my inner thighs, causing me to shiver in his grasp. As soon as I open my eyes from my tiny spasm they latch onto the upward curve of my boss's lips.

"It's disrespectful to do something'h other than what your superiors desoire, is it not?" Instead of keeping the contact that I'm enjoying so much, the man unfortunately removes the screwdriver from my palms along with the warmth of his touch. No, I've had enough of this. I've waited for so long, Ivan...I won't give up on feeling your hot breath torture my lips again like they accidentally did on Sunday night...

"What is it that you want then, _Ivan_?" Placing my head near his, I lean in to look over the contents of his desk. Hesitantly, he moves his body away and exhales, dragging a hand up to pick the sliver of wood out from between his teeth.

"You know, you weren't the most qualifoied idiot to reply to my posting'h. There's a much more rude reason that I picked you." I can hear the slip of the fabric of my lightweight jacket graze my neck as my attention snaps to him. He presses the pointy, whittled wood against the flesh of the tip of his index finger, balancing it on the smooth surface of the table.

"Rude?"

His fingers let go of the toothpick, letting it drop softly onto the metallic mess of his desk, as he swivels his comfy chair away from me. My body leans in like it wants to follow his every move, submissive and so very needy, but I stop it from pursuing this desperate action. He must have some reason for going so far away. _And indeed he does_...Those quick, vicious, dark brown orbs scan the length of my body, his lips twisting up in short spurts until they land on my own eyes, the essence of elation flashing across Ivan's manly facial structure.

"Yes. Rude." I can feel my face contort into anticipatory confusion, arms wrapping around my own waist in some strange attempt to create a barrier between us. Wait...why am I doing this? I should be flaunting my body, offering it to him. He won't know of all the dirty, pleasurable sins that I want to wreak on him if I just stand here like some meek librarian. With an intense, snapping straightening of my posture, I saunter over to the man and place my hands on my hips, eyes aflame with desire. And not just a desire to lay him down and commit my body to his, but to know what he thinks is so rude about hiring me.

"What in the world could you be have been thinking that was so rude?"

"The moment that we met, the moment that I laid my criminal eyes on your delicious, womanly body I wanted to make you mine." What...?

"Why didn't you?" A slight tilt of Mister Vanko's head tells me that he's possibly not considered the possibility of actually perpetrating his scandalous desires. "I mean..."

"No." A large grin devours the momentary discombobulation that the man has suffered as he shifts himself around in his chair. "I know that you've wanted it. Or at the very least that you've been doing things that make it seem that way--"  
"No, I want you!" My hands push up together in tentative half-fists  in front of my lax mouth, pawing each other as I fail to meet his gaze...but I ease back up to watch the pulling of his lips across his gold-capped teeth.

"I just didn't want to soil you with my dirty hands. You're a good goirl. More than a man like me deserves." Wait...criminal? Dirty?

"So...this isn't what you've been telling me, is it?" Indicating the subject of my query with a pointed finger on a careless hand, I finally take his vision in mine. But the coldness that I was expecting doesn't surface in the slightest within his molten chocolate iris'. No...instead, the crinkling of his eyes, the squinting that catches the fluorescence that surrounds us tells me that he's pleased. Pleased like when I bring him something new to try for lunch time...pleased like when I clean something up without him needing to ask...pleased like when I just laid there in his careful, stalwart grasp as he caught me the one time I almost tripped over his mess of wires...and our lips brushed...

"You believed that it was what I said it was?"

"Well...not really." His forehead dips down and to the side, shadowing his sly, toothless grin. "But I wanted to."

"You really are a good goirl." And his face is back up, chin elevated slightly, looking upon me like I'm some target that he's going to strike and devour. No...not just some target. _The_ target. "You asked me what it is that I wanted." I nod, completely entranced by the dominance that's now emanating from his large, muscular body, which is somehow still so menacing from that dinky computer chair. "Go sit down on my bed there." My head turns hastily to the worn-in looking raggedy mess of crimson sheets. "I will show you."

Eyes wide, slovenly turning my head back toward him, I finally cross my arms across my chest beneath my breasts. This suddenly got very real...and as much as my body heat escalates when I'm in the same room as him, I've finally been hit with the worry that this may not be the best of ideas. He said he was a criminal...

"You never answered me about the lying thing..." He closes the lids to those beautiful, deep eyes and tilts his head down again before looking at me with the same predatory desire that he's held in the static of his movements since I slipped my tongue about my attraction to him. And he has taken to standing up, the dull, white lights of the room casting shadows on his face that dig at my heart. Whether it's fear or the desire to comfort I can't quite grasp yet.

"I am on a quest of revenge." The man opens his arms wide and takes a tentative step toward me, trying to gauge my reaction to his peace-making gestures. I simply stare, anticipating much more than this as his response. "Tony Stark stole my father's blueprints." Another step...a step that my body is slowly becoming quite alright with. "He is a thieving menace." Another step. "He tore my life apart. And for the past month, you've been helping me prepare to retourn the favour." He snaps his head toward the whips, then back to me, saturating my person with his gaze all over again like he just can't seem to satiate his need for the sight of my body. Ivan takes another step and lands right in front of me, arms still held wide, precious markers of an aspiration to embrace me.

"I...I see." After tracing the tip of the mural of tattoos that creeps up from beneath the casually unbuttoned thermal top that covers his chest, our eyes meet, his arms falling gracefully to his own sides.

"If you would like to leave, I understand." What feels like disappointment resonates at the lowest frequency of his voice, pulling at the strings of my stomach, making it do flips and flops until I just can't let him sound that way anymore. I destroy the distance between our bodies with two tiny steps toward him and place my palms against the cloth of his chest, resting my cheek against the bone of his breast. "Oh..." The tiny sound vibrates across the sculpted muscles beneath the left side of my face causing a giggle to rise from the center of my lungs. I let go before he can wrap his arms around me and I flounce my way to the man's bed, wrinkled sheets and misplaced pillows comforting my lust-driven body.

"I want to stay with you, Ivan." The man's serenity transforms into some intense need that I've never witnessed in a man before, ruthless and base: the primary shock to some soon-to-be-actualized electrocution. "And I've never liked Stark anyway."

Mister Vanko's breath catches and pops out of his mouth, as he takes those same few steps toward my now-lounging body. Reaching the edge of the bed, Ivan crawls up to completely cover me, shadowing the only overhead light in the room with the bulk of his frame.

"Is that so?" With only the most subtle of bending in his elbows the man reaches his lips toward mine, lingering above the anticipation in my breath.

"Yes--" The air in my throat hitches as I reach up to press my lips to his, fully expecting him to shy away and tease me, but he lets the pressure of his practiced muscles meld with mine, the tips of his facial hair tickling against the pores of my skin. Almost like he wanted to make it an absolute certainty that I wanted this by letting me have the first move. "Are you still not sure about this...?" The skin over his eyes slowly peels open, lust keeping them half-lidded.

"I am sure about this. The only thing holding me back is the plausibility that you have no idea what you're getting'h yourself into with... _this_." He cranes his neck down again, letting our breath weave, want and need making the hot air much more dense, but he still won't be the one to plant the kiss. Aggravating.

"What's it going to take then?" I let the words bounce off my tongue as I grasp my right hand around the  fabric beneath his collarbone and pull his lips into mine, digging up underneath the bottom of his thermal with my free hand. My fingernails drag against the skin of his back, leaving the lightest tingling to sing out alongside the pleasured shivers of the man above me.

"r/n..." His voice is husky and breathy, electrifying the little hairs all over my body, making each one pinch up and stand at attention. For as short a time as he came up for air to bellow my name, Ivan takes the same sweeping swiftness and crashes his lips into mine again, trying and failing to cage in his desires. 

With intense violence, the man rips his lips away from me and  places them against the side of my neck, groaning deeply against the tender flesh there.

"You would be a criminal, just loike me..." His growl is low, words nearly drowned out against the now-moist skin that he's taking into his mouth and sucking so delightfully on, leaving the quickest and lightest of convulsions to tickle against the inner walls of my pelvis.

"Ahhh! Ivaaan..." The last vowel in his name drags across my tongue like his fingers up the skin of my stomach beneath the cotton t-shirt which is starting to feel _rather_ itchy. But how to make him rip it off...? He groans again at my mewling enunciation of what he's always wanted me to call him.

"You would, in fact, be mine." He suddenly stops bursting capillaries beneath the skin of my neck and drags his head up to search what must now look like a big ball of confusion. "Is this not what you expected from a man loike me? Didn't part of you expect me all along to be some sort of criminal?"

"Y-yes...but--"  
"Did you want this to be just a one time thing'h?"  
"Ah--"  
"I do not think that I can oblige a request like this."  
"Would you listen to me?!" My shout tears through the room and echoes down the hallway, the very reverberation startling us both. I push myself out from underneath him and attend to the open door, looking down the poorly lit corridor both ways before quickly closing and locking the barricade with the key, the notched lock, the bar over the door and the door bolt. I never realized how paranoid this guy was.

"I'm listening'h."

"Honestly, Ivan, I didn't think I'd be anything more to you than a tool. Even getting you to touch me was more than I could have ever dreamed of." My gaze finds his, some sort of anger building beneath what looks like the face of the betrayed.  I lean back against the sturdy door and look at everything in his room but him. "Not to say that you're a man who would use me for my body. I mean, clearly you wouldn't. Unless this is some weird game that you want to play with me to make me trust you more? But you don't even need to do that, so you wouldn't waste your energy." He stands from the bed, the cloth around his collarbone still bent out of shape...I think I ruined that shirt. "What I'm trying to say is that it wouldn't have mattered if you ended up being a good guy or a bad guy or anything in between, it just didn't seem like you wanted me and--" Due to having my sight meander to the floor in my senseless rambling, the rough press of the man's naked torso against my still uncomfortably clothed one up to the blank wall behind the door completely takes me off guard, the breath being knocked out of me while his hands find their way to my wrists, palms pressing my joints harshly against the solid concrete. I guess his shirt fell off on his way over here. Tragic. His nose nuzzles mine as he lays his lips lightly against my own, his breathing tantalizing me into puckering up just enough so that the touch isn't so hard on my senses.

"You are far from a tool...You are not what I even asked for in my request. So, if you were a tool, you would be useless." His hips buckle and crush into my lower body, the bulk of his erection burrowing up into the seam of my jeans as he wraps his lips around mine to muffle the loud moan that's reverberating through the meat of both of our faces now, his tongue barreling into the caverns of my very ready mouth. The velveteen organs lap at each other like waves on a shore, hungry and strong, thoroughly driven by energy from deep inside the body of the ocean...from deep inside what feels like should be some sort of central core that we both belong to.

He releases his lips from mine and drags his tongue out of my mouth like a hungry tiger from its freshest meal, a string of saliva nearly drooping before he digs back in again and licks it away from my tongue. His lips are red and swollen now...and so... **desirable**...I reach in again, trying like mad to get back into that warm, wet pocket but he sways his head away from me, elusive and _aggravating_.

"And you certainly aren't useless." He bucks his hips up against me again, hitching me up the wall a good half a foot before I fall back down again to my feet. "No, I picked you because you provoide something far more useful than some foolish engineering'h student." Mister Vanko's iris' peer down at me, nearly ebony in the absence of direct light. We stare at each other for a good, long while, pulsations of throbbing desire reeling out of his gaze at me between his slow and methodical blinking.

"More useful than that...? All I do is run errands..." The words are having a hard time coming out of my mouth considering the fact that all I want to do is ram our lips together again. They sting, prickling and pining for my lover's affections.

"No...no, you do so much more." The man pushes my hands together above my head and takes a step back as he imprisons both wrists in one hand, much like he did with the screwdriver earlier. The entirety of his muscular body is now in my view and I can't help myself from eating it up as he takes his free hand and cups my jaw line with absolute tenderness. "r/n..." He kisses me again, his lips puffed and smooth, all of his ferocity replaced with this most gentle of nuzzling. "You listen to me." Ivan's hand makes its way down the skin of my neck, finger tips dazzling across it and setting my nerves into a frantic sputtering all down my body like he's designated the course that his fingers will take all the way down to my core. "You clean up my messes." The phalanges paint their descent to my chest and skim the better part of my breast, making my spine reel into his torso.

"Touch me, Ivan..." My request is breathy and hard to swallow. I must sound so desperate...Hell, I sound desperate to myself. He stops the movement of his free hand and rests it against the curve of my waist, proper and courtly.

"I am, dorogaya moya. You aren't letting me finish saying'h how you are useful." I sigh and release the tension in my thighs causing my body to relax against the wall again, giving my eyes ample room to gobble up the multitude of tattoos that engulf the man. Aren't these...Russian Mafia tattoos? So not just criminal but... _criminal_. Plus the whole Tony Stark thing, but that honestly doesn't bother me quite as much. "You've helped bring _art_ back into my life..." Our vision meets, my own sight feathering out around the edges like I'm about to pass out just from  the pure electricity that illuminates his attention. The free hand that's been instilling calm heat into the crook of my ribs and hip starts to roam again, starting again, fresh, at the tip of my collarbone down...down my chest...

"Ohh..." and squeezes the clothed breast, "auh..." and then the other, "nnn..." and then moves on down the center of my abdomen, fingers spiraling in the shape of a crescent moon to switch their direction. He rests his palm against the bulk of my stomach and presses lightly as he makes his way even further down, slowly and annoyingly taking his time in getting beneath the waist of my jeans. And as soon as he does, he teases his hand right back out, not even hitting the trimmed hairs of my pubic region. "Ivan--" The whine comes out short and taut, cut off with a purposeful kiss, warning and authority sliding from his tongue to mine. The free hand, which had left me for a moment, comes crashing down against my hip with a formidable echo, catching a great bit of flesh within his clawing grasp. He squeezes, "mmmm..." and crawls his gripping digits across the flesh of my ass until his hand is fully between my pelvis and the hard concrete wall. He lets my lips go, eliciting another short mewl from the back of my throat before I try to catch my breath again.

"Yes, your body has redefined what I know art to be." A soft smirk plays across the left side of  his puffy lips, evidence that he's thoroughly enjoying watching me squirm in his grasp. With a little more maneuvering, the roaming hand finds its way to the seam beneath the warmest part of my body and starts to press those dexterous fingers into the fabric there.

"Auhh!" My hips swivel in the shape of infinity atop his rough touch, so entranced by the tension that he's building in my lower abs that I almost miss when he releases my wrists from their captivity, letting the arms that they're attached to fall on either side of his shoulders. He pulls his hand back up from underneath me and drags the both of them across my body, the smolder and static between our iris' amplifying the intensity of his touch. The _feeling_ behind it...like he's wanted to share these affections with me for far too long...like he really has something special in his heart for me. "Ivan...?" The man doesn't answer, only begins to traverse the space beneath my shirt with his warm, delicate touch, pulling the fabric up as he does. The air in his room licks at my skin, cold as it is, and draws up rivers of goose bumps across the skin that he touches. "It's cold..."

"Ah yes...you hardly ever complain." Mister Vanko rips the cotton shirt and jacket off of me all in one sweeping motion, setting my hair  flying and messy and weaving with itself across my face. "And you look _so_ **beau** tiful...even when you're messy."

"That's your fault--" He cuts my words off again but not out of a desire to stop my speech. No, it feels much more like he just gets a rise out of cutting me off...out of letting our tongues fight over who gets to speak next. He shoves his body into mine again, hands holding my hips down with command worthy of a general, hitting my now exposed back up against the freezing concrete and thrusting up into that perfect little niche that he's found in my jeans. His hips fall from mine far too quickly, but he distracts me so easily with the tampering that his fingertips are doing with the waistband of my jeans.

"You bring me **very** good food." He breaks away from the kiss just enough to speak his words and then gets back to work with finding a way to romantically devour my tongue. And somehow manages that elusive-sounding feat. _Ivan_...The hand that has been teasing along the rim of my pants finally unbuttons and unzips them, gaining a bit of help from its other half. "Very, _very_ good food." His words are breathy but still richly laden with that gorgeous accent, that deep, rough bellow...

And his lips connect with my neck as he bends down a bit, starting to peel off the fabric that surrounds my bottom half. Within his kiss, he pulls a bit of the skin there into his mouth, suckling on it and then releasing it, leaving a trail of love bites in descent toward my breast. Although my bra still lingers there, he pays them adequate love, licking and kissing the plush of the chest that's pushed up into two round pillows. He groans slightly and removes a hand from my thigh, as the lowering of my pants has already gotten this far, to stroke himself through his own jeans for a moment. His lips halt as he nearly loses himself, like he's stroking himself to porn at his computer over there or something, until I tighten the grip that the crooks of my elbows have around his neck.

"Ivan...please don't stop..." He begins kissing again as he slowly removes his hand from himself. Either he's addicted to masturbating or he's completely lost in lust. Let's hope it's the latter.

"I...am sorry. I lost myself to thoughts of you stroking'h me. Forgive me." But I'm right here...why are you still just thinking about it? The brushing of his lips against my skin escalates once again into tiny hickey-themed affections as he continues to make his way down, my pants with him. Releasing all contact with my skin, the man takes to my boots, undoing the strings and fervently trying everything under the sun to get them off.

"Here--" I cut myself off as I bend down and easily slide everything off of myself, underwear excluded. And as I go to do that, Ivan's hand grasps around mine.

"No. No, I take these off." But he doesn't. Instead he stands fully and kisses me with sweetness that wasn't in his tongue before. It's gentle  and fluttery like a butterfly, moist and comforting like a cloud. "r/n..." His forehead touches mine and he closes his eyes, causing me to do the same, our belaboured breathing mixing, hot and heavy. "I think..." A course grunt culls in his throat as he removes his head from mine. Did I hurt him somehow? My eyes snap open in alarm to find his deep, ebony orbs trying on lust...and it isn't quite fitting right now.

"What...?" I tilt my head to the side and reach my elbows back, softly pawing at the skin of Ivan's neck with the tips of my fingers as I try to comfort him in any way that I possibly can. It apparently works: the ill-fitting desire now settling perfectly into what feathering I can even make out in his iris'.

"I think...that I am hungry..." The man kneels, skipping over the entirety of my mid-section (and simultaneously making me feel very self-conscious about it) and starts to breathe out through terse lips. A cool stream of breath peeks into the lace front of my thong, tickling the short hairs there and sending shivers up the entirety of my body, nipples going completely erect. I pull my hands up from the position against the wall that they had fallen to just a moment ago and pull his hair out of his work-bun as softly as I can manage through my shuddering and the sudden darkness that my eyes have betrayed me to. A deep chuckle resonates over my tiny, pleasured utterances, causing me to lift the lids of my leaden eyes. He smiles up at me, the caps on his teeth sparkling brilliantly; it nearly matches the slick gloss of his elated eyeballs and the very sight of him being more happy than he's ever been in my presence causes my knees to nearly buckle. I was holding it together pretty well when he practically said he wanted to consume me...but then I see that he's this happy about it too? My legs have become _so_ gelatinous...

He chuckles again and grabs my hips violently, electrically, and slams me up against the wall again, dull pain aching all across my back again...but it feels so good...at least mixed with the gentle whispering touches that his lips are gracing my pubic bone with right now. My Ivan pulls the fabric of my panties down by hooking his right-hand index finger around the bottom string of the dainty object, brushing his knuckle against the soft (and incredibly moist) skin there as he does.

"Ooo..." The coo rolls out of his mouth as he presses his other handful of fingers in at the flesh there...flesh that until now had felt perfectly dry and manageable. But now that he's separated the lips of my vulva, it's pricklingly obvious that he could just enter me right here and now...no need for fake lubrication or any sort of foreplay. "And what is it that I have done that has made you so wet...?"

"Like...everything, haha--" My gentle, supposed-to-be-comforting laughter is cut off by the feel of his fingers dragging the velvety fluid away from its origin, smoothing it over into the crevices of my folds and over my clit. "Ah! NNnn..." The breath is knocked out of me as he rubs my most sensitive organ in loose circles. His fingers are usually so rough...but my own juices are softening his fingers to feel like the plush of a tongue...two tongues..."Auuhh..." I rest my head against the concrete behind me and continue to release what tension I can with tiny moans and mewls. Since we _are_ right next to the door, I don't exactly want anyone to hear...

"Lift your leg'h." This command creaks my eyelids open. Oh, he means for my underwear. I do as he instructs, allowing him to slip the frilly thing off of that foot. But before I can successfully replace the foot on the ground, he hoists that leg up onto his shoulder and centers me about his mouth. Those dark, warm eyes train themselves on mine once more before reaching in to gently kiss at the organ that he still so sensually massages. The affection is deliberate and gentle, his fingers slowly moving back toward my already undulating opening...and lovingly violating it in one swift motion. 

"Ahh! Ivaaan..." He jams both fingers inside of me as he takes my pulsating nub against his lips, licking against it with such rapidity and expertise that my vision goes dark, head reaching back again to the concrete. "Fuck..." My breathing hitches over the intense rise and fall of my chest, his actions being ever so exhausting and causing me to go through the hardest of times with  my respiration. I open my heavy eyes just long enough to see him look up at me. He groans, for some reason or another, into me as his fingers dig around my sheath, no doubt looking for that special--" _Ahh_! Ah! Yes!" The top of my head eases back along the hard wall behind me as I crook my neck in ecstasy. He found that...far too easily...

"r/n--" He whispers my name before smiling again, my moans escalating over the soft sound that comes from the back of his throat. His fingers dig inside of me, deeper and harder, massaging that little spot of pleasure as my hands fidget about his luscious mane of ebony. With a little bit of difficulty (considering all of the writhing that his touch is threatening to bring me to), I ease my neck back down and watch him work on me. And with the assistance of the absolutely irresistible visual, a whole new level of pleasured noises erupt from my lungs, ache building up so frustratingly painfully in my limbs that I involuntarily clench my freezing fingers around the closest tufts of hair that I can find.

My bucking begins to escalate as he takes my clit back into his mouth, which causes the man to grip the hand that he's had around my thigh up and into my hip, keeping me straight up against the wall so he can continue efficiently. 

"Ahh! AAH! _**Ivan**_!" And efficient he is. My pelvis attempts one more futile buck as the tension that's been building in my abdomen comes tumbling down onto his crooked fingers, tensing around them and washing my cum between them. "Fuck--" My breath hitches as he continues, despite my obvious orgasm. "Ah-Ivan...please stop..."

All of his actions stop at once. The man stares up at me, concerned but still in the realm of lust that's driven us here.

"No more?" He pulls his fingers out from inside of me, leaving trails of my juices along my inner thighs. That magic hand flips itself and he wipes his mouth on the back of his forearm, the saliva having gotten all over...such a messy eater. The grin that's eked out over my face at this thought must look absolutely ridiculous, but I can't care right now. Far too blissful. "Then porhaps you should go. I need to release."

"...what?"

"You say you are done. Is this not so?" Oh...my dear Ivan.

"Oh, done with letting you _only_ pleasure _me_. Also, I get a little sensitive after I cum." I slide my thigh off of Ivan's shoulder and grip into his hair again as I lean down and part his lips with my wanting tongue. His own oral muscle responds almost meekly, clearly a little disoriented, before he pushes both of his hands up and to the back of my head clinging to my hair in much the same way that I do to his. I always kept it down for him, as he told me once that he liked it best that way...and today is no exception, the h/l, h/c strands crinkling between his strong, messy fingers. Ivan straightens himself out while we kiss, regaining the dominance that he's had over me this entire time.

"You are porfect." His words are whispered, hushed and in serious need of air. But he doesn't let himself have any: he's back up against me now, carefully peeling one hand away from my head as our tongues latch onto each other once again. Such passion in all of his movements...is he always like this with his women...? The free hand roams across my body, finally reaching across the flat of my stomach and allaying my fears that he wasn't into that part of my body and _oh, he's picking me up again_. Ivan rests a kind hand at the back of my thighs, hoisting me up, and ushering me into a position that really just would be much more comfortable with my legs up around his hips...and there go my panties with a soft flop onto the floor. I guess they caught onto my toe as I was lifting the other leg up...?

Mister Vanko breaks away from the kiss, that same feral grin spread across his face, and works his other hand out of my hair and onto the plushiest part of my posterior, giving it a generous squeeze as he gets there.

"Nnnmm..." The soft breeze of a chuckle hits my forehead, where his mouth is level with, currently.

"Is that what you loike best? When I squeeze you there?" With my body pressed up against his and our combined weight properly shifted, Ivan takes us over to the bed as he speaks and lays me down on my back, causing my legs to slide down his and come undone around him.

"I like it...a lot...but probably not what I like best...maybe," I smile up at him as he starts to expertly remove the restraints on his bottom half, "maybe you should do some experiments on me to find out what really..." my teeth find the plush of my bottom lip, dragging up the soft, swollen thing as I continue to marvel at his rough and rowdy body, "...turns me on?"

Ivan tilts his head up and to his right as he pulls his lips taught over his golden teeth.

"Porhaps." He bites the inside of his cheek in the absence of his usual toothpick. "Take these off of me." Does he have shoes on though? Of course not...worked here long enough to know that he never wears shoes when he works. In this room at least...and since I interrupted him in the middle of working...

I sit up from having been completely prone on the bed and inch my way up toward him. With soft and slightly worried movements, I place my palms against his warm, sleek abdominals, relishing in the way that I can just take my time enjoying the sculpture of his body.

"Is something'h wrong?" The comfort of his hand reaches up to my left arm and cradles it as he strokes the skin there, love in his touch.

"No, no...I'm just...really happy." An anxious giggle escapes my mouth before I can stop it, but I can't bring myself to be embarrassed in front of Ivan now. He's seen me and caused me to be at one of my most vulnerable points...embarrassment would just be silly. "Besides. You asked me to do it, so that means it can be at my own pace." A real smile stabs into my cheeks as I catch him rolling his eyes in defeat.

"No, it does not." Okay, maybe not defeat. "As I said before, it is disrespectful to do other than what your superiors desoire." Crap.

"Would you rather I wait until you're laying next to me, exhausted, before I lay my hands all over your body?" He raises an eyebrow and takes his cheek between his teeth again for an instant.

"Yes." _**Aggravating**_. Yeah...I suppose that would suit him better, wouldn't it? A massage after sex. I may as well make him a sandwich too.

"Well...fine." With a bit of a scowl, I abruptly remove my hands from his warm, clean abdomen and dig my fingers into the rough fabric of his jeans, pulling the two sides away from his body as best as I can. I glance up at him enough to see that black mess of hair falling beautifully over the way he smiles at me. Despite the monuments to the massive work that's had to be done to his mouth, it's still one of the most beautiful things I've seen and easily melts away the frustration that I have started to feel over his choice.

But his smile falls away at the tender replacement of expressions of my face. Ivan's other hand rises from his side and finds its way to my cheek, cupping it tenderly and stroking the soft, done-up skin there with an encouraging thumb. I take my eyes away from his, finally regaining my desire to have this man inside of me...to have his body up against mine again. And my hands work double-time, fluidly stripping his bottom half with a bit of help from the eager fingers of his left hand. But his right hand has found its way back into the h/t hair at the back of my head. I suppose he likes the way it feels to dominate me. And I love the way he's got me here, submitting to his will with just a smile and a thumb to assure me.

 _So powerful_...

And now that he's only in his boxers, I can't help but stare at the tented fabric in front of me. With a bit of help from the push and pull of the both of his hands, I lean in to kiss and caress it through the cottony fabric.

"Take this off, as well." But instead of letting go of me to let me do so as easily as possible, he holds me here against this lovely, warm section of his body. So I continue to stroke against his erection, to feel the width of him, the length of him. And of course the feel of it, the very action of touching him, drives me to do nothing but follow through with his request; my fingers hook around the elastic of the waist band, pulling against them and around the curve of his fit buttocks. Though they catch slightly on his engorged appendage.

And here it is. My hand slips down into the soft fabric of his underwear and grasps around the cylinder of his hottest appendage. It pulses in my hand as I remove it from its fabric prison and into my full view. I shove the boxers further down, allowing him to take them all the way off at his leisure. Instead, I turn my full attention to the large focal point of his perfectly trimmed pubic region, stroking and leaning in once again to push my puffed lips up against it.

"No more stalling'h." See? How do you like it when _I_ 'm the one being aggravating? He grips into my hair harshly and pulls my head back before leaning down to dig his lips into mine with innocence that he hasn't yet shown me. Ivan slips the last remnant of clothing off of himself as he crawls his way onto the bed and into a position to hover over me once again. "Mmm..." My lover's pleasured grunt ekes out over the small moans that parade from my throat and into his lips. He's plotting, isn't he...

The man lets go of my tousled hair and sweetly grabs onto my thighs again, setting himself down upon his own pillows to face the ceiling and brings me up and over his body to straddle him, our naked groins instantly grinding against each other like two gears that fit so perfectly together. My back straightens as he thrusts up against me, his penis breaking the closure of my lowest lips again and dragging the excess of fluid there all along the length of him...and as he keeps shoving against me, all along the length of my vulva.

"Ahhh!" My moan echoes off the plain concrete as he straightens himself with a steady hand and presses his wanting, _needing_ manhood deeply into me, ignoring the resistance that my soaking sheath is giving him. Ivan's hands pet themselves up my smooth thighs to my shuddering hips; he holds them down and slams into me the rest of the way, sending another wave of unhappy aching through the meat around my pelvis. He's a little too big to just have shoved himself into me like that, but the pain, "Ah!", is gone now, swift and sure release from the peak of the hurt...just like when I rip the little band-aids off of my Ivan. And he proceeds to roll his hips up into my still body, ushering even more groaning to come up from the deepest parts of my lungs, chills running down my spine at each little movement of his. "Was...that revenge-ah! For...mmmnn..." His thrusting slows and shudders, entering me and exiting with titillating lethargy.

"For...?" He continues to pulse as his pelvis gradually stops moving. Ivan sits up and shines that wonderful smile at me again before wrapping his arms around my torso. His dexterous fingers slowly work over the muscles there, distracting me from the docile kisses that he's lining my collarbone with...in fact they distract me from the unclasping of my bra.

"For the...um...ah..." My head rolls back as his lips play up to my neck. A deep, resonating chuckle divides my moans, slicing them apart in the air-space like they're tangible. The rest of them get caught in my throat as I feel the need to hear that handsome laughter again. He pulsates again within the heat of my core, forcing the pent up noises to claw their way out of my mouth, heavy and without enough breath to really feel them in my throat.

"Despite how it can sometimes get in the way, the fact that you get so easily distracted has torned out to be just another thing'h that makes me love you more..." love...? "...just another thing'h for me to toy with..." My breathing hitches as the word echoes in my head. Did he mean it, or is it just a casual use of the word...? But he's never said it before...I'm over-thinking this, clearly. I knead the tips of my fingers into the flesh of his open back as he slowly removes the straps of my bra, attenuating the anxiety that I was building up around my heart.

"Um. For when I rip the band-aids off of you." And the statement has lost all meaning now. I didn't get it out in time and even I've forgotten why these words are finally coming out of my mouth.

"Ah...no. I've just done this enough to know that the more quickly the pain passes, the less loikely it is that you will hate me in the morning'h." He slips the cups of my bra out from between us and presses our bodies together like we haven't seen each other in years. "And the last thing'h I want...more than to fail to see Mister Stark fall, is to have you hate me." A free hand reaches up onto my head again, digging with sweet severity against the scalp and through the messy tresses as he places his lips against mine once more, setting them into the nooks that he's found and claimed as his favourites just in the short time that we've allowed ourselves to give in to our sultry desires.

The tousling of our fleshy oral muscles is short-lived, however, as he releases his hold on me, lithely, and lays back down, his mane of gorgeously wavy ebony sprawled out across the blood-red pillowcase. If he weren't so sun-worn, I would say he reminds me of a vampire...and this static in his venomous stare...

His eyes trail over my body as he starts to thrust into me again, the bed starting to respond in that cliché symphony of squeaks. The man below me finally starts to moan again as he reaches up and grabs my chilled breasts with his warm, rough hands, the fingers tepidly digging in and releasing in discordant spasms. For a moment he takes a few fingers up and plays them across the red ellipses that he left on my body just a few minutes ago, but he quickly becomes bored with it and reinstates his hands to their most comfortable positions. I drag my fingertips down the length of his smooth, tattooed forearms, lacing around the artwork there as he pummels his tender, powerful cock deeply against the inside of my needy flesh.

"Auuhh~" A vacant smile hollows around my face as I start to finally be able to buck against his constant pushing and pulling.  
"Mmmnnaahhh..." Ivan's voice joins with mine as we nudge at each other, our bodies softly smacking, the wet sound and musky smell of our copulation hitting my senses like an unanticipated electrical impulse. And with these revelations, the chills hit me all over again, my pleasure escalating with each jab that he takes into me. His hands start to roam across my body, touching every bit of me (and not just the parts that he hasn't already), until he finally rests one hand against my left ass-cheek and the other cupping my right breast in a manner that allows him to pinch at my already _very_ hard nipple. "r/n..."

"Ivann...Oh..." My hips rock and slide over his a little bit faster as I start to feel him tense up beneath me. His until-now-constant thrusting shudders a little as his eyes start to close, every bit of his face betraying the intoxication that he's suffering in response to the undulations of my body. This is his show: my breasts rising and falling not only with my breath, but with the jiggling caused by his slamming into me; my head rolling back every now and then in absolute ecstasy, only to drag itself back just so I can stare at the pleasure in his face; and the swivel of my hips as I add texture and harmony to this most satisfying of sensations.

"Ah--" His breath hitches and his eyes close tightly, almost like he's in pain, but considering the fact that he's still working inside of me, that can't be the case. My lover's pulsations speed up to the pace with which he digs into me, his hands holding my hips steady, as he moans my name with such delicacy and appreciation...oh. _Oh_ ~

Ivan twists us as he sits up a little bit and pulls out of me, leaving me vacant and wanting, lying here in the spot on his bed that he's made hot and sweaty with our loving. Only a moment later a large, white gob of his discharge spills out onto the sheets between our naked bodies. I look up to his face from the mess and feel my face crack into the most idiotic grin the instant his gaze searches the length of my body and meets my eyes. And he matches the feeling, lips spread thin as far as his cheeks will take them.

"Ah--" But I can't get another sound out before his lips come crashing into mine again, his body coming down onto me and twisting me into him as he digs into the bed beside me, clearly exhausted. His hair glides across my face and settles in very tickly spots along my neck, causing me nothing short of a soft giggle. The energy that our bodies have gained from our releases (although mine feels as though it was ages ago) manifest themselves in the writhing of our legs: mine soft, shaven and smooth against his rough, strong and prickly ones. But they feel so good, so powerful and...if legs could feel happy this is how they would feel. Or maybe it's just the twisting of Ivan's lips in the passionate heat that's re-emerging between our mouths.

 _And I miss this_. I don't want to stop kissing him again. His strong tongue dancing with and darting away from mine...the pressure so perfectly balanced between dominance and tender love.

"Ti takaya chudesnaya," he breaks from the kiss long enough to speak these foreign words to me before latching on again. He presses into me again, getting me onto my back and making my left leg land in--ugh, I don't even care. My Ivan is above me, warming me and still lusting after me, even after having released all of... _god_ there's a lot there. "I love you," he speaks again, heat flaring up over his face as he returns to kissing me.

Okay that time, I'm pretty sure that I heard correctly. And...is he blushing? My eyes open as he releases the kiss. He draws a tender hand to my cheek, stroking it with his thumb again.

"Is...this not okay?" A shattering of fear starts to percolate away from his eyes as we stare into one another. It seems to me that this is the only kind of fear that a man like this can even feel...

"Yes! Yes...Ah...I love you too...in fact, I was going to say it before but you interrupted me like you so lo--" And there it is again, his lips up against mine once again, melting them into a defeated smile. Fine, Mister Vanko. If you must interrupt me, and you take such pleasure in it, then please, keep doing it.

But only like this.


End file.
